


The Naughty List

by adelaide_rain



Series: Extra Curricular [3]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Christmas fic, Dom/sub, Domestic, Latex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:30:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaide_rain/pseuds/adelaide_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch will allow Christmas decorations in his apartment under one condition: that Jack does the decorating while wearing latex boy shorts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Naughty List

"Come on, Pitch," Jack says, glaring at their shockingly un-Christmassy apartment. "We _have_ to decorate.”

"It’s not even December yet. And also: no."

"But why not?”

Pitch looks up from marking papers, and that’s when Jack knows that this is a losing battle. If Pitch was focused on grading shitty essays from his sophomore class, he might have agreed just to shut Jack up. But with his full attention on the matter, Jack is screwed. Sitting back in his chair, Pitch starts to count off the reasons on his fingers. “Firstly, I’m an atheist. Secondly, even if I wasn’t, I’m culturally Jewish-“

"I thought you were Iranian. Or British. Or Irish. Or Greek."

"I’m all of the above. Thirdly: I’m allergic to pine-"

"We can get a fake tree."

"Fourth, you do realise that most of the so-called Christmas traditions are precisely nothing to do with Christianity?"

"Yeah, I don’t care about that. I’m agnostic at best. We can call them Festivus decorations. I just want fairy lights and tinsel and pretty things, okay?"

"Not okay. No decorations," Pitch says, and goes back to his marking. Jack glares at him and puts his hands on his hips.

"Come on. There must be something I can do to change your mind. This is our first Christmas together!”

"And I hate Christmas. No, Jack.”

"Come on. I’ll blow you."

"You’ll blow me anyway."

Jack purses his lips; he can’t argue with that. “Come on. I’ll do anything.”

Pitch looks up and sighs. After a moment of thinking he says, “Blue latex boy shorts with snowflakes on them. Custom made so that they fit you perfectly. Matching collar and cuffs. Wear that and you can put up minimal, subtle decorations.”

Jack is speechless for a long moment and then chuckles. “I don’t know if you just made that up on the spot or whether that’s something you’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I’m not sure which one scares me more.”

"Those are my terms," Pitch says, and takes his papers to the study, effectively ending the discussion.

Jack looks at the closed door with narrowed eyes and puts his hands on his hips. That was a _yes_ , as far as he’s concerned. Now he just needs to find someone who’ll custom make latex boy shorts.

===

It takes a few weeks to find someone who will make them in Jack’s price range (he’s still a poor student and unfortunately custom latex is not in his budget), another week to make and then another week to arrive.

And so it is that it’s Christmas Eve before Jack is _finally_ able to put on his new outfit and decorate the apartment. He starts just before Pitch gets home - if Jack’s already started, Pitch will be less likely to stop him. Probably.

The decorations were bought as soon as Jack made the order for the shorts: a tiny white tree with gold and black ornaments; black tinsel; white fairy lights; and a fuck-ton of icicles and snowflakes. Minimal decorations, just as Pitch said. Classy, even.

He’s almost finished when he hears the door open, and he grins widely, making sure that his ass is facing Pitch as he comes in so that he can fully appreciate the glory of the boy shorts: one latex snowflake on each cheek.

There’s a sound that Jack just knows is a bag slipping from startled fingers, and he turns, grinning at Pitch.

"Oh hey. Welcome home."

"What are you doing?”

"Decorating. I believe these are correct, as per your specifications?" Jack gestures at boy shorts, cuffs and collar, and Pitch’s gaze jumps from one to the other, as though he doesn’t know where to look for the best.

"You- look good in a collar."

"Yeah, I’ve been saying that for months. But what about the boy shorts? They shown off everything pretty nicely, don’t you think?"

Pitch swallows, staring at them. “Yes. Very nicely.”

"And," Jack says, pinning up the last piece of tinsel and stepping down from the stool. "I’m wearing the metal buttplug you bought me for our anniversary so I’m all ready for you. Unless you want to make me wait some more. If you can wait.”

Pitch pauses and looks conflicted; it’s obviously a difficult decision. But then he smiles, a crooked, wicked smile. “Oh, I can wait, Jack. I’m less confident that you can. How long until you beg, hmm?”

His voice has gone deep and smooth and utterly in control - his dom voice, and it’s a real effort not to fall to his knees at the sound of it. Instead he offers a crooked grin of his own.

"Is this going to be a Christmas Eve tradition? Seeing which of us cracks first before I end up pushed over the sofa with you fucking me hard and fast, bareback, telling me what a good boy I’ve been this year, how I’m definitely not on the naughty list and how you’re going to reward me all day tomorrow?"

Pitch’s pause is brief, barely a heartbeat, before he darts forward, grabbing a handful of Jack’s hair and tugging, hard, making him yelp. “You most certainly are on the naughty list,” he purrs. “But if you’re very, _very_ good tonight, you’ll get your reward tomorrow.”

"I can be good," Jack whispers. "Sir."

"We shall see." Pitch shrugs out of his coat, damp from snow, and hands it to Jack. "You can start by putting this away, and getting me a beer. After that you can get on your knees by my feet and - well, we’ll see."

"Anything you want, Pitch," Jack says, and for all his obedience he’s a brat at heart, and he walks over to the closet swaying his hips. When he looks over his shoulder, Pitch is looking at those two snowflakes on his boy shorts as though he’s hypnotised by them.

Jack grins. No matter how much of a brat he is, he’s going to get his reward tomorrow, he’s sure of that. Not even Pitch has that much self-restraint.

Being on the naughty list really isn’t so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Christmas on my [tumblr account](http://adelaiderain.tumblr.com/) but never ended up posting it here. I figured it was about time I did :)


End file.
